


One Sweet Song

by thebriars



Series: Hamiltrash Incorporated: The Drabble Collection [7]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Eliza's there for a hot second but she's still an angel, I FYCKINB HATE SPELLING UGHGHGHG, Oops, READ THIS >>, alex is his adopted son and goes to the Schuylers to look for young musiciabs, here eat this fluff I made it just for u, i will praise j's golden eyes for a long as I need to until it's canon, mulligan is just kinda there whoops, musicians oopd, singer!john, washington runs a record company
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 18:28:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13036926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebriars/pseuds/thebriars
Summary: Alex and Lafayette happen to be enjoying their regular date night at the Schuyler's restaurant, but an encounter with a young musician leaves them both shaken.John is just trying to balance his three passions in life. When Alexander Hamilton gives him his business card, John wonders how his life might play out.Three idiots fall in love in NYC.





	One Sweet Song

**Author's Note:**

> hmm listening to a murder podcast and eating goldfish in bed is technically productive bc i wrote this

It was nearly Christmas.

New York was blanketed in snow, soft and thick and thoroughly muffling. The lights seemed dimmer and the noise seemed farther and farther away.

 _Beautiful_ was all Alex could think. A beautiful city and a beautiful man across from him, dark eyes alight and springy curls haloed by the stage lights behind him.

The Schuyler Cafe had been ground zero for nearly every date night for three years and running- perfect atmosphere, delicious food, and the fleeting figures of the sisters around the room. And live music. Young artists, talented students.

And, tonight, a handsome face illuminated by the bright white lights. Tawny skin splattered in careless freckles and messy curls. Eyes closed as he swayed to the music, flashing gold as they flitted over the dining room.

Eliza nodded enthusiastically at Alexander from the hostess booth. This guy was a diamond in the rough.

Laf raised his brows when Alex nudged at his shin under the table, gesturing vaguely towards the stage.

A turn, a nod, and a smile let Alex know that his boyfriend understood exactly what he meant.

As the piano notes faded out with the last crooning word, a smatter of applause came from the tables.

"My time's almost up, so I'd like to say thank you to my piano man, Mulligan, and to the Schuyler sisters, for inviting me again, and to you all, for putting up with me almost every week. Enjoy the snow, enjoy the city, and enjoy the holidays," the singer said, bright smile cutting through the applause. "Name's John Laurens and thank you again!"

And he was gone.

Laf nodded quickly and they rose.

\---

Alexander caught John just before the back door. Hand on his shoulder, soft "hey", and two golden eyes right on him. John's brow creased.

"Do you have a record deal?"

"N-no?"

Alex grinned. "Great. Listen, my family has a business- a music business- and I think we want you. Take my card."

John's fingers closed around the tough paper, eyes alight and lips curled in a small smile.

"Thank you."

And he was gone again.

\---

Christmas had come and Christmas had gone and Alex wrote poems about golden eyes with a new fountain pen.

And now he held the heel of his hand to his right eyebrow and tasted the metallic tang of blood on his lips.

Fucking Jefferson in his favorite bar.

Dammit.

Cursing beneath his breath and blinking tears from his eyes, Alex didn't notice the figure rounding the corner, guitar case in hand, until they had collided.

"Shit, fuck, sorry, ahh."

"No, no, it's fine, I- Mr. Hamilton?"

Two golden eyes in the dark, staring up at him from the ground where he'd fallen.

"John?"

\---

John's apartment was nice. Modest but fitting, artistic and humble.

Alex was perched on his kitchen counter, sharing quiet conversation with John while the latter dabbed with a cotton swab at his cut brow. Alex hissed.

"Are you sure this is what you're supposed to do?"

"I'm a certified nurse, Alex, trust me."

"Wait, really?"

\---

_"Lafayette, I'm at John's. From the Schuyler's."_

_"Alex, what happened?" A sigh. Laf's voice heavy with sleep._

_"Got in a fight with Jefferson in the bar."_

_"I'm coming. Text me the address?"_

John looked up. "French?"

"Yeah. Can I get your address? My boyfriend's picking me up."

A soft nod. Alex stiffened. "Is that a problem?"

John whipped around. "What?" Golden eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Me having a boyfriend. Is that a problem?" Danger in his voice.

"God, no," John protested. He pointed towards the wall over the couch. A rainbow flag fluttered softly in the drafts from the heater.

"Oh." Alex sunk down into himself. "Sorry."

"No problem."

\---

Lafayette knocked softly. John answered. Alex stayed seated on the counter, holding an ice pack to his swollen upper lip.

Laf gasped. "Alexander, mon chou!"

"I'm fine, Laf. John's a good doctor."

"Nurse, Alex. I'm a nurse."

"It is the same healing," Lafayette thanked him, whispered something low in French to Alex, and John offered them both something to drink.

Alexander looked around the dim apartment. One light on in the bathroom and a few in the kitchen provided just enough to illuminate the guitar and piano in the living room, photos of John with various people and in various places. The pride flag. A neat kitchen, stacks of cookbooks and a few dishes in the sink. And John.

John with tawny skin and loose curls and a lithe body and a galaxy over his cheekbones and those golden, golden eyes. John pouring Laf a little wine, laughing when Laf swirled it tastefully, and asking if Alex's eye felt better.

It did. So did his decidedly numb lip. John asked carefully if he would stay a little so John could know it the eye needed stitches. Alex agreed with a grin but asked if he could move from the counter.

They talked late into the night on John's couch, John telling them of his childhood in the south and his adventures in Europe. He told them of his music and his art and his love for medicine and his difficulty fitting them all into his life.

Alex immersed himself in his voice and his golden, golden eyes.

\---

In the morning, Alex slipped into the living room. Laf had asked if they could stay over to avoid the darkened streets and John had insisted he take the couch.

The sheets were clean and smelled like cinnamon.

John was curled beneath a blanket, head pillowed on his arm. Sunlight caught the frizzy curls falling over his face and his soft, full lips.

Alex went to look for coffee.

\---

Lafayette asked John out for a drink.

John said yes.

\---

New Years came and New Years went. Alex and Laf shared a quick kiss in Times Square while John and Mulligan hooted and hollered.

\---

January fell upon them and John gave Alex sheet music.

"I wrote it. You'll hear the words someday. Maybe."

Alex had smiled and pressed his hand against John's chest. "Thank you. I know it's going to be beautiful."

He played it for him, biting back the lyrics.

\---

Lafayette woke Alex up in the middle of the night, eyes wide.

"I have to tell you this now because I am positive."

"What? Laf, I don't understand-."

"I think I love John. Actually, I know I love John."

Alex inhaled sharply.

"Please don't be mad," Laf whispered.

"I do too."

\---

John was singing in a smokey bar with Mulligan pounding the keys, hands wrapped tightly around the mic and his hips swaying.

His eyes were always closed when he sang. Alex wished he could see them. Golden, golden eyes.

Afterwards, Alex found John and raved about how good he sounded. Ignored John's blush and his eye roll, bought him a drink and clapped Mulligan on the back. Pleaded with his eyes for Mulligan to leave them alone.

John nursed his beer and watched the next singer. Alex watched John.

"Hey, John?"

"Hm?"

He bit his lip. "Can I kiss you?"

\---

Lafayette woke up with a hand on a freckles hip and a hand buried in silky black hair. Sunlight caught freckles and purple shadows under eyes.

Sunlight caught happiness and love and care.

It was spring now- nearly Easter.

New York was beautiful.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> look at these little love birds I adore them. also I have no clue how music works so excuse the innacuracies in this. 
> 
> wanna guess what john wrote? it's a love songgggggg


End file.
